The Search
by Dleet
Summary: (Sequel to "The Quest") Eight years later, Daniel's back, and boy does this guy hold a grudge. He's kidnapped Jane right before
1. The Return

Chapter One

  


The Return

Jane stood in front of the crude looking glass. It didn't truly qualify as a mirror; she wasn't quite sure if they existed yet. Instead, it was just a piece of highly polished metal.

"Not bad, if I do say so myself," Mimi said. "The fabric's high-quality, and it shows. It fits nicely." She leaned back and examined it a bit more. Sighing in frustration, she leaned forward and fixed a wrinkle in the skirt. "There. Now then, Lady Jane, how does that suit you?"

Jane grinned, looking at herself in the white dress. "It suits me very fine, thank you."

Mimi grinned. "I'll go tell your uncle. Do you want him to see it?"

"By no means," Jane said, breaking out into a smile. "I want him to be as surprised as anyone else. If Will can't see it beforehand, he can't, either."

Mimi smiled. "You've grown up, Lady Jane," she said a bit sadly. "I'll tell him. Girls, three of you take the unneeded material out, would you?"

Three of the five girls broke away and gathered shreds and piles of the material for the dress, following Mimi out.

Jane turned a bit to see the back of the dress. Conservative, just like everything else here. Still, she couldn't complain. She was getting married soon, after all. After a time of living in court, this was still before Camelot's fall, people had started calling her "Lady Jane." She had by now given up on trying to correct them.

She supposed she ought to be nervous, but she couldn't imagine how she could be. She and Will had lived here for two years now, and he had finally asked. Everyone had known they'd soon get married, it was just a matter of when. And she was most happy that Gumerry would be bringing Simon and Barney to the festivities.

Behind her, she heard another door open and watched the figure in the reflection.

"Hello, sir," one of the girls said. In the poor reflection, Jane watched her form fall, the other girl falling shortly after. The figure was still coming toward her, and Jane spun round, preparing to scream. He grabbed her neck and stuffed a cloth in front of her face. Once her eyes had closed, he removed it, picked her up, and carried her out the way he had come in.

* * *

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Bran asked calmly, looking at Will, who was unhappily ripping a piece of paper into smaller and smaller shreds.

"I mean just what I said," Will told Bran impatiently. "She was trying on her wedding dress, and then someone just walked in, knocked out two of the servants, and took her." He met Bran's eyes. "Black hair. Stocky. One of the servant girls described him as greasy. Know anyone of that description? One of the guards at the gate saw a merchant matching that description walk out of the city carrying a large sack." He threw down the piece of paper, calmed himself, picked it up and resumed shredding.

"How did Daniel get in?"

"They're checking into it," Will said testily. "Listen, Bran. Right now, I really don't care about that, to be honest. I want Jane back, safe and sound, and right now she's with Daniel, and who knows what's going to happen? Remember the last time the Dark kidnapped one of the Drews? They took Barney to a place where he could have been killed. What if they do that again? Or what if they sell her into slavery, huh? What then?"

"It won't come to that," Bran told him. He got up to fetch them drinks. "We know someone who knows Daniel incredibly well, remember?"

Will sighed and leaned back, staring at the paper as he tore it into smaller scraps with his nails. "She doesn't remember anything, Bran. And even if you restored her memory, how would she act? She wasn't forgiving in the first place."

"I can handle it," Bran said. "Michael should be old enough now that she won't be so protective."

"Really?" Will asked. He seemed about to go on, but in the end, he sighed and said, "If it helps get Jane back, I'll do it."

"Good. Then I suggest you pack a few things. I'll take care of transportation. She lives kind of far away."

* * *

When someone knocked at the door, Michael was the first to jump up and check it. His mom probably hadn't even heard it. She tended to concentrate too hard on her work, designing webpages and compiling databases. He peered through the eyehole, but didn't recognize the two men standing there. Still, they didn't look like thugs.

"Mom?" Michael called. "Someone's at the door."

"Okay," she said. She stuck a pencil in her notebook to mark her place, put her glasses on the desktop, and went to the door. She peered through the eyehole and immediately opened the door. She stood there in shocked silence, seemingly waiting for the two men to do something. "Michael," she said at last. "Go to the kitchen, please."

Michael nodded and went into the kitchenette, ducking. If his mom had wanted him to know nothing of her affairs, she would have sent him to his room. Still, things looked promising.

"What do you want?" she asked the two men once he was out of sight.

"Cat?" the white one said. Michael had never seen anyone like him before. He was completely white. If he'd walked down Elm, he'd be dead by now. The other one was brunette. Their colors were muted, but that only meant that they were free meat between the gangs if they got caught. No allegiance meant there wouldn't be anyone to avenge your death. No trouble to the killer.

Catherine's grip tightened on the doorknob. "Yeah?"

"We've got a problem with Daniel," the other said. "He's kidnapped my fiancee-"

"Will, calm down. May we come in?" the other asked.

Catherine thought and finally opened the door wider. She led them into the office/sitting room, and sat down in one of the chairs, all of which had been bought at yard sales and none of which matched. "Please," she said. "Sit."

The white one grinned. "Manners? From you? I never would have thought it."

She scowled. "They help in my profession. However, if you wish to criticize me or play a joke, I'm sure we can work out something."

"With us on the short end."

"Precisely."

"Cat," the white one said. He stepped closer and pressed a hand on either side of Catherine's head. "Remember."

A second later, Catherine pulled herself into the mostly absent cushioning of the chair. "What did you- You- You're- He's back?"

Will nodded. "And he's kidnapped Jane."

"Your fiancee is Jane? That's great, Will. Congratulations."

"On what?" he said sourly. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not getting married if I don't have a bride."

"And you want me to help you find her?"

The white one knelt down beside the chair. "Listen, Cat. No one knows Daniel as you do. No one knows you as Daniel does. You can help us trap him, and then we can get rid of him for good."

"Sure, I'll- What's that?"

"What's what?" the man said, suddenly acting slightly embarrassed.

"That ring, Bran. The one on your finger."

"Oh. That." The man lifted up his hand so she could see a round room. "I'm engaged. I was trying on rings today, and then Will showed up..."

"Oh," she said, surprised. She grinned, but Michael could tell she didn't feel it. "Well, I guess everyone's just getting married now, huh? Fashionable?"

Will and Bran looked at each other. Will shrugged, apparently letting Catherine's comment slide. He must have known her for a long time. "Actually, I've been planning this for a while. I just didn't expect Bran to say he was getting married as well."

"Well that's great," Catherine said. "Congratulations to both of you. Tell you what. Why don't you come by tomorrow morning? As you recall, I have a son to look after, and I also have a few loose ends to attend to."

"Why not now?" Bran asked.

"Because I said so," Catherine said coldly. "Come back tomorrow morning."

"Cat-" Will began.

"Don't. Guilt won't work on me, Will. Don't think it will. Tomorrow. Now, out with you. Both of you." She showed them out and then leaned against the wall, studying one of the cracks in the ceiling.

"Mom?" Michael said, coming out of the kitchenette. Of course, he knew she wasn't his _real_ mom, but she treated him as a real mother would treat a real son, and she was the only mother he had ever known. "Who were they?"

"People," she said, sounding tired. "I'll tell you when I get back, how about? No, better yet, I'll tell you in the morning, when I'm awake and over the shock."

"Get back from where?"

"Just the store. I need to get something. As for you, it's past your bedtime. So to bed with you, Skywalker." She grinned at the shirt he was sleeping in, with a small group of spaceships battling a large space station and other ships. He had been obsessed with the movie ever since he'd seen it.

He grinned. "Bet you I can lock the door with my mind," he said.

"Bet you can't use your powers as a Jedi to go to sleep," she taunted. She watched him until she was sure he had gone to his room and then crept out, locking the door behind her before she left the apartment building.

As she walked down the street, she complimented herself on how well she'd done in the past eight years. She hadn't moved entirely out of the neighborhood, she just lived on the border of the lower and middle class neighborhoods. Close enough to her home to remind her whom she was and teach Michael that bad things were out there while far enough that she didn't need bars on her windows. As long as she and Michael were careful, they were perfectly safe.

She bought the wine, an old type, and walked home with it. She hadn't drank alcohol in a long time, but she was pretty sure wine wasn't the same. Rich people drank wine. It might weaken her wits, but it wouldn't kill her. Besides. Alcohol came from beer, and wine came from grapes, she rationalized.

When she got home, she reached for a glass, hesitated, and withdrew her hand. Instead, she went directly to her room, where she opened the bottle. She was already ahead in her work, and Michael would be fine. Oh, in the name of all things good. She simply deserved a little kick after all the work she'd done, and the shock she'd just gotten. Normally, she prided herself on how well she went with the flow, but finding that she hadn't found Michael as she had apparently imagined, instead finding him, an odd present from Daniel, had thrown her off more than she liked. She shrugged and decided she might as well start.

* * *

Outside the apartment, across the street, Will sat in the car, staring at the front door of the apartment building. It wasn't a big building. Four stories of trashy rooms, filled with rats and who knew what else.

"A watched pot never boils, Will," Bran said patiently as studied a book on economics he'd brought along.

"I thought you told her to get a nicer place than this."

"I did. She apparently forgot. Or she had her own ideas. She's like that, you know."

"Yeah, I know, but- Bran. Heads up."

Bran obeyed and looked. He felt a prickling along his spine and instead searched with his mind. "He can't get in without an invitation," he said firmly.

"Right," Will said. "Does Michael know that?"

"Michael? No, I don't know if he even knows..." The two glanced at each other and got out of the car at once. "He wouldn't try anything," Bran said as they walked across the street. "Not with an Old One and the Pendragon here."

Will's eyes narrowed. "He did it back home, and can you imagine how many Old Ones were there at the time? And Jane's protected by the Light. That didn't even stop him."

They began running up the stairs, taking them two by two, then three by three. The Dark's presence was stronger. On the third floor, they took a right and ran halfway down the hall. They tried her door and found it locked. Will knocked impatiently, and had begun shouting when the door opened, and a small boy with short blond hair and green eyes glared at them, his look of maturity contrasting the Star Wars images on his shirt.

Will picked him up a bit and went in, Bran following. Bran closed the door behind him, locking it. "Where's your mom?" Bran demanded. Will nodded his approval. Bran had been taking on the Old One's aspects of linguistics; you could barely tell his accent was Welsh.

"Why do you want to know?" Michael demanded.

"Because you and she may be in trouble," Bran explained quickly.

"Listen, buster. I don't know if you noticed, but Hell's outside the window, and you think we _may_ be in trouble? The only reason I let you in was because you were here earlier, but if that's the best news you can tell me..." Michael dusted off his pajamas where Will had touched them, glaring at the two older men.

Someone started knocking on the door. "Cat? You in there?"

"No solicitors!" Michael shouted. He turned to look at Bran and Will. "And that includes you two."

Something hard hit the door, causing it to splinter. Michael looked at it in shock. "Whoa," he murmured.

Bran grabbed his shoulders and turned the boy to face him. "Listen, Michael. I need to know where your mother is."

Michael looked at him, to the door, which had just received another hit and few more splinters, and back. "Her bedroom," he said quickly. "This way." He ran down the hall barefoot to his mom's room and threw open the door. "Mom!" he shouted. She was asleep in her bed on top of the covers. What was wrong with her? She _never_ slept like this. And then he saw the bottle. He picked it up, and Bran took it from him.

"Nearly empty," he said. "She drink often?" he asked Michael. Michael shook his head, and Bran grabbed Catherine's shoulders and shook her. "Wake up!" he ordered.

Catherine gave a little moan and tried to slap him, much to slowly and off by about eight inches.

"You're drunk!" Bran said.

"Not yet," she muttered.

"Daniel's here."

That got her at least to open her eyes. "You just going to stand there, then?" she asked slowly, slightly slurred.

"No. Come on. Get up." He dragged her to her feet, where she swayed unsteadily. "Will," he said hurriedly.

Will stepped forward and caught her.

"Where are we going?" Michael asked.

"Someplace a bit safer than this place and time right now," Bran said. He took Eirias out of its sheath, and he heard Michael gasp and stand back. Bran ignored him and concentrated on the spell, moving the sword precisely. Right before they left, Bran had time to see Daniel's hand reach for the doorway, and then Daniel's face, and then Daniel seemed to disappear.

And they were headed for relative safety.

When it was over, and they stood in Bran's father's Great Hall. "At least now we know how she'll react," Bran told Will optimistically.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Serious thanks to Rose-bud. Without her, this wouldn't have been out so soon. If only I had people like her to encourage me with the "Harry Potter and the Twick" sequel and "School of American Magic," not to mention "The Search For Atlantis," I might actually get one of those done, LOL. *sigh* Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. I'm going on a little vacation now, so I don't know when the next part will be up. Please forgive me, and thanks for reading this far. © 2001._


	2. The Fiancees

Chapter Two:   
The Fiancees  
  
Daniel walked into the bare concrete room and looked at Jane. She's mad,/ he thought, amused. He nodded to his friends and somewhat loyal helpers. The two were members of his little gang of "friends." Eddie was white. Sammy was black. Both were big, brawny, and brainless. They grinned at him, arms crossed.  
  
"So, Jane. Enjoying your stay?"  
  
She sat in the chair, hair and wedding dress barely ruffled, shoving her chin out defiantly.  
  
Daniel smirked and signaled Eddie and Sammy to leave. They frowned but obeyed. After they'd left, he closed the door, and turned, studying her, pleased to see a moment's doubt in her eyes before she turned fierce again.  
  
He laughed and laughed more at her shocked look before striding over and grabbing her chin. "Don't kid yourself, Jane. You're like many others I've seen." He stroked her cheek with a thumb, getting the reaction he'd expected.  
  
She jerked her head away. "Just wait," she said simply.  
  
"I don't believe I'll hold my breath, dear Jane." He made sure the twine around her wrists was tight enough. He sent Eddie and Sammy in behind him. "Don't touch her," he warned them. "Leave that to me."  
  
Behind him, Jane took advantage of her inept bodyguards and grabbed a needle which had still been stuck in her dress and went to work, trying to pick apart the twine with it.  
  
* * *  
  
Catherine woke up with the worst headache she could ever remember having. She moaned and rubbed her head with a hand. She looked to see what was holding her other hand down and was surprised to see Michael there, asleep with his arms around her. He hadn't felt like sleeping with her for years.  
  
"Hey, baby," she said sleepily, stroking his hair back as softly as she could. Her vision was slightly blurry.  
  
Michael sighed and woke up, looked at her blearily. Suddenly he climbed off the bed. "He wanted to know when you were up," he explained.  
  
"Who?" she demanded.  
  
"That Bran guy. Who is he? I mean, we were all in your bedroom one second, and then he and Will whisk us off to here. Do you know where here /is,/ mommy? I met King Arthur just last night!"  
  
She grinned a little at him. "Bran can probably explain a lot better than I can," she said. "But humor me for a few minutes. Come here."  
  
He came, and she hugged him tightly. "All right," she said after a few minutes. "I guess that's enough for now."  
  
Michael made a face. "You're /so/ lucky I don't believe in cooties, Mom."  
  
She smiled. "I am, aren't I?"  
  
He nodded and left. A few seconds later, Bran came in.  
  
"Like mother, like son," he told her as he pulled over a chair.  
  
"You got a problem with it?" she demanded.  
  
"Nope," Bran said with a shrug. "But the weapons-master might. Michael's been pestering him with questions for what seems to Phaistos ages." After a pause, he asked, "Feeling better?"  
  
Catherine groaned and rolled away a bit on the bed. "I didn't know hangovers were so /painful,/" she said at last.  
  
Bran smirked. "And if you had known? What would it have changed?"  
  
"I would have put a do-not-disturb sign on the door."  
  
"The door Daniel bust through last night?"  
  
"Last night?"  
  
"Plus a few years?" Bran said after a moment's consideration.  
  
Catherine frowned. "Refresh my memory. Everything that happened last night, from why you showed up to when you showed up and everything after." She leaned back and listened to him tell her, and the story wasn't nearly as long as she had half expected. "So what now?" she asked.  
  
"We try to find Daniel," Bran said. "Where Daniel is, Jane will be."  
  
"Hopefully," Catherine said softly.  
  
Bran nodded soberly. "That's what Will is worried about. That he'll sell her, or-"  
  
Catherine nodded when he couldn't finish the sentence. "Or worse," she offered. Bran nodded, and Catherine tried to sit up, leaning back with a groan. "Well, the only place I know to find him is in my time."  
  
"That's where we believe he's from," Bran said.  
  
"Great. So I guess we start there?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Got any Tylenol? Advil?"  
  
"No, but I can get McIntire to whip up some tea or something?"  
  
"Tea? /Tea?/ Bran, hate to break it to you, but I don't drink tea. I'm American."  
  
Bran looked hurt. "Americans drink tea," he said.  
  
"/I/ don't. People where I'm from don't drink that trash."  
  
"I'll ask him to come in anyway," Bran said decisively. "If you really want to get over that headache, you'll do what he says."  
  
After a few seconds of trying to find some appropriate thing to say, Catherine gave up and sighed, turning away and muttering things under her breath. "Fine. Whatever. Just go... My head hurts."  
  
Bran got up and obeyed. Michael was in the hall, pacing, and Bran stopped to talk to him. "How often does your mom do this?" he asked.  
  
"First time, I think," Michael muttered. "But /why?/ That's what's getting to me."  
  
Bran nodded his agreement. "I'm going to see if McIntire can help her. Want to come with me?"  
  
After a slight hesitation, Michael nodded and followed. "Mom said you'd explain what's going on."  
  
"You're a bit young," Bran said, careless.  
  
Michael glared at him. He wasn't young! He stopped and put his hands on his hips, waiting until Bran stopped to face him. When the man finally did, Michael said, "Listen, pal. I don't know what you're thinking, but I was raised right on the edge of the hood, all right? I got the rich pimps on one side, the poor ones on the other. I got gangsters all acting tough and all that trash on my back on the time. I got to put up with junkies and prostitutes and all this other crap. And you think I'm not old enough? I've watched people get shot to death on Fountain street, and you say I'm not old enough? The cops won't even come into our neighborhood in uniform or in marked cars, if they even come at all. And you think I'm not old enough?"  
  
Bran raised his eyebrows, considering. "All right, then," he said after a few minutes. "I'll explain." He started walking, and Michael fell into step beside him. By the time they'd gotten back to Catherine's room, with McIntire in tow, he was nearly done and about to explain the most recent events. And by the time Catherine surfaced from her room, drinking tea complacently and with a minimal headache, he was done.  
  
Catherine shrugged. "All right," she admitted, "that McIntire guy knows his stuff."  
  
"Good, then," Bran said, giving a nod to McIntire. McIntire and Catherine gave a slight wave to each other as Bran said, "We'll get Will and go. So, Michael. Have you ever been to Wales?"  
  
Michael laughed. "Not funny, man. Those might be big fish, but you don't want to live with them."  
  
"Actually, they're mammals," Bran said, amused despite himself. "And I meant the country."  
  
"I know what you meant. Wales, part of the United Kingdom. Everyone there talks really weird gibberish."  
  
"Michael, honey," Catherine said, putting a restraining hand on his shoulder. "You're worse than I was."  
  
"You know it, momma."  
  
Catherine's face clouded. Catching something Bran hadn't, she knelt down in front of Michael, looking him in the eyes. "Now, you listen to me, Michael. You're lucky I'm not Henry's mother. She'd beat him for that. I will not put up with your disrespect, understood?"  
  
"Yes ma'am," Michael said quietly, looking away. "It was just a joke."  
  
"You can make jokes that aren't mean," Catherine said simply. She spotted Will down the hall and waved him over. "Ready?" she asked.  
  
"More than ready," Will said.  
  
"Good." Bran took Eirias from its sheath and held it, doing a series of motions that Michael watched closely, fascinated.  
  
A moment later they were all standing in a small, comfy living room, with only one person standing in it besides them.  
  
The first thing Catherine noticed was that the woman was beautiful.  
  
The first thing Catherine did was fly at her, or at least try to, but Bran was holding her back by grabbing her shoulder.  
  
"Catherine," he said unnecessarily. "None of that, this time. Michael, I'd like you to meet Isabella, my fiancée."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Copyright 2001. Second chapter. I'm at a writing course- thank God for computer labs, that's all I'm saying. For Rose-bud the "Sisters" of the Wild Magick. Simon and Barney are coming in the next chapter, along with another familiar face... Hope you stay tuned! 


	3. The Move

Chapter Three

  


The Move

Simon slammed the phone in its cradle and turned angrily to the kitchen, setting about making himself some strong tea.

"Well?" Barney said as he sat at the kitchen island in Simon's flat in London. "What did you expect? They're Old Ones."

"I can still beat the little pest up," Simon said angrily.

Barney looked surprised. "I thought you were pleased when he proposed to Jane."

"I was. But I didn't realize at the time that her relationship with him would get Jane kidnapped." He dug deeper into the cabinet and took out a squeeze bottle of honey.

"He loves her, Simon. Don't ask me how," he added with a lopsided grin, "but he does. And he's an Old One. Personally, I think Daniel ought to watch his back. Will is likely to kick him out of Time four times over."

Simon squirted the honey into the tea and stared into the liquid as he stirred it slowly. "He said they're at Bran's house, right now. They've got Catherine and Michael with them; Michael's nine now. What do you say we drive there and offer our services?"

"Drive? To Wales?"

"We've done it before."

Barney still looked doubtful. "Oh, why not?" he finally asked. "Flying's faster. And if they won't let us help, which they can do, I feel obliged to remind you, we can just pull the whole tourist thing."

"Great. Let's get packed."

* * *

"Come again?" Catherine asked. Without waiting for an answer, she exploded. "What the hell do you _mean,_ she's your fiancee? Does the word suicidal mean anything to you? Because the word homicide is kind of flashing through my mind very quickly right now."

Ignoring her, Isabella curtsied gracefully. "Hello, Bran. Will. I'm glad to see you again."

Catherine stopped ranting and placed her hands on her hips, nostrils flaring. "Oh, yeah," she said. "That's common courtesy. Where's my hello, huh?"

"Where's mine?" Isabella asked smoothly.

"Probably up your-"

"Catherine," Bran warned.

"She started it."

Isabella curtsied again. "Dinner's almost ready," she said. "I was going to get Mr. Rowlands to go with me to pick it up."

"McDonald's again?"

"One on every corner," Isabella said happily. "You've no idea how quickly they can put so much food together."

"That's because the actual meat is tasteless," Catherine said. "They ship the meat and this sort of flavoring to the restaurants. When the restaurant makes the hamburgers, they put a few drops of the flavoring on them. They all taste the same, and they only need so long on the grill to get warmed up again." When Will and Bran both gave her odd looks, she shrugged. "What? I can read a newspaper, you know."

"Who would have thought?" Bran muttered. She glared at him.

Isabella shrugged. "Oh, well. It's still good. Shall I invite Mr. Rowlands to eat with us?" she asked Bran.

Bran nodded. "If you want."

Isabella smiled. "Soon then, love."

Catherine made a face after she'd gone. "Love? Who the hell talks like that?"

"She didn't even say hi," Michael said with a pout.

Bran cleared his throat. "Never mind," he said. "She's busy. It's a lot to get used to, moving across Time like she's done."

"Yes, it's very hard," Catherine scoffed. "If I remember correctly, I got used to it pretty quickly."

"That's because you're unique," Bran said, giving her a slight push into the kitchen. Will was already at the table, laying out maps.

Catherine looked at them dubiously. "Got any of New Orleans?" she asked.

Will pushed three of them over to her silently.

As she sat down, Catherine looked at him, noticing circles under his eyes. "Get some sleep, Will. Jane will kill me if she finds out I didn't take proper care of you."

"How would you know?" Will asked.

"Oh, you know. Jane and I have kept in touch, after all. If you can call it that. It's been nine years for me, and two for her, so it's a bit confusing."

"How did you keep in touch?"

"Miss. Starling," she said, perusing the maps. "Get sleep, Will. Now."

Will frowned and looked at Bran, who shrugged. Will finally gave up. They wouldn't leave him out of anything, he knew that. And he _did_ need sleep. He hadn't slept at all the night before, always thinking Jane- Well, he needed sleep, and Jane would say the same thing, so he'd get some sleep. Or at least try. He left for Bran's guest bedroom.

Behind him, Michael asked Bran where the TV was while Catherine pored over the maps.

"Sorry, Michael. Don't have one."

The boy's jaw dropped. "Wuh? Mom, he doesn't have a TV. Even _we_ have a TV!"

"This is Wales, honey. Anything worth knowing you can find out through local gossip. I'm afraid you'll just have to settle for the old form of entertainment: Reading." She didn't look up. "Got a pen?" she asked Bran.

He tossed her one and said to Michael, "You want to play chess?"

"Don't know how."

"I'll teach you, then."

Forty minutes later, Catherine had circled twelve places on the map that looked as if they might be some help, and Michael had finally talked Bran into playing checkers instead and had won twice.

Catherine ignored the pieces on the board and lay one of the maps on top of them.

"Hey!" Michael said indignantly.

"Those are the places I think he could be," Catherine said, rubbing Michael's head. "The circles with the checks are the places I've heard he hung out at, used. The ones without checks are his friends' houses."

Bran nodded. "I'll wake Will up. We'll leave right after dinner." 

"Why not now?" Catherine demanded.

Bran didn't look up from the map. He pointed with his thumb behind him to the driveway. "Izzy and John just pulled up."

Catherine watched the headlights roll across the wall and said, "Oh." The four must have gotten to Wales late in the day. She turned to see Bran already walking down the hallway. "This John guy. He a stiff too?"

Bran knocked on a door, ignoring her, and disappeared inside a second later.

Will rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He must have slept longer than he had thought. It was darker than it had been before, and he'd actually managed to sleep, period. Bran grinned at him. "So, Old One. She thinks she may have found some of the places he may be." He spread the map out on the table in the room, and Will got up, studying it and committing it to memory as he tried to flatten his hair with a hand.

"Dinner's here," Bran continued.

"Great," Will said. "You don't know how starved you are until you hear food mentioned."

At the table, John Rowlands, his hair thinner and grayer now, his face leaner, his mouth still firm, and as strong as ever, was passing out ham and cheeseburgers. "A big mac for the lady," he said, passing it to Isabella, who accepted it with a grateful smile, "and we didn't know what to get the two of you, so we got you plain cheeseburgers."

"Amen," Catherine said, accepting it happily. John tossed the other to Michael, who dug in immediately, and tossed double macs to Will and Bran as they came in.

"Hello, Bran. Will," Isabella greeted them. "How are things going?"

"They're looking up," Bran said. He explained to John what had been going on. "Would you be interested in joining us?" he finished. "We're going to check them one by one."

"Ought to have asked for pay," Catherine muttered. She quickly took a bite of her cheeseburger as the three men looked at her.

As the three turned back to their own conversation, and Michael couldn't have cared less, Isabella said softly, "It isn't becoming for a lady to act as you do."

"I'm not a lady. I just have to put up with them. And if you think you know what a lady is, you're sorely mistaken."

"Am I?"

"Yes. Nobility is not something that is deserved because of parentage. It is deserved by the person."

"What ideas you have," Isabella said softly.

Catherine smiled. "You know, I had a lizard named Izzy once. I caught it, put it in a jar, and it took off its own tail trying to escape. Didn't do it any good. Left it out too long in the sun. Fried. Stiff as a twig by the time I took it out. Crunchy."

Isabella made a face and put her burger down carefully.

A few minutes later, Bran rose. "Ready?" he asked Catherine.

"Too ready," she said, observing Isabella, who was once again the very picture of docility.

"Come on, then. Izzy, could you watch things again, please?"

Isabella bowed her head. "Of course. I'm sorry, but is she going?" She indicated Catherine, who lifted her eyebrows slightly, along with John Rowlands.

"Yes. She knows Daniel the best."

"I'll say," Catherine said conversationally as she walked over. "Nearly castrated him a few years ago. Of course, I don't know how long ago it was right now. This is actually kind of confusing."

John Rowlands's eyes sparkled. "You think it's confusing for you?" he asked. "I grew up thinking Old Ones were myths. At least you don't have to deal with misconceptions."

"Depends on what kind you mean," Catherine said as she and Michael walked over. Bran looked at Michael, then to Catherine, and did the spell.

* * *

Simon and Barney walked down the driveway. "Stupid directions," Simon said, kicking a rock away. "You'd think my own brother would know left from right."

Barney shrugged. "You were the one who taught me. Who can complain?"

Simon glared and got ready to knock. Suddenly he paused. His brows knitted together as he asked Barney, "Do you hear that?"

Barney shrugged again. "People."

"Listen."

Barney did, and he felt his blood run cold. "Daniel," he whispered.

Simon nodded. "And Isabella. What are _they_ doing here?" His fists balled up. The person who had taken his sister was in there with Bran's fiancee. How were they to know she wasn't trying to trick them again?

He got ready to go in.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Sorry this one took so long to get out, guys. I had it written, but then we went to Miami for a while, and I lost the computer disk it was on. Luckily, I had a backup on my computer, so then it was just a matter of getting another disk. Took me long enough, don't you think?_

© 2001


	4. The Sign

Chapter Four

  


The Sign

"Welcome to the American version of Frankenstein's castle," Catherine said, waving extravagantly at the spray-painted walls around them.

"Charming," Bran said dryly.

John Rowlands read some of the writing. "What's that mean?" he asked, eyeing a certain phrase.

Catherine laughed nervously and clamped a hand over Michael's mouth as the boy opened it. With her other hand, she pushed John Rowlands's arm down. "It's nothing to worry about. What now?"

"Split up and search. We've got a lot of ground to cover. Will, Cat, Michael, and me and John. Ready?"

They all nodded and split up.

Catherine stuck Michael in between herself and Will. Michael glared at her, but Catherine put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving in front.

"Still remember how to fight?" Will asked. She was surprised to see him holding a sword in front of him.

"Yeah. I remember. You remember how to use that thing?"

Will grinned. "Had two years to practice."

"You can use a sword?" Michael asked, eyes wide. "Really?"

Will nodded and started singing softly to change the subject; he obviously wasn't worried about Daniel finding him. As he did so, though, he saw a slight glowing in the dust in the corner. "Hey," he said suddenly. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Catherine asked, tempted to sneeze from so much dust.

"That. It's one of the Signs." Will walked forward and picked it up. It was a quartered circle, all right. One of the Signs.

"What's- Oh." She looked at it. "It's stone. I must say that it's a really freaky piece of jewelry."

Will shook his head. "It's not jewelry; it's one of the Signs of the Light."

"Did magic do it? Make it and all?" Michael asked excitedly.

"Magic did have a part to play in it," Will confirmed. "Let's go; she isn't here."

The Sign was the only thing they found that day. Catherine wanted to talk to Bran, but he always paired her up with Will. After they'd searched eight of the houses, they all decided to go back home, tired. Bran took out the sword, and Michael watched his movements carefully as he did the spell again.

* * *

"Do you want them to find you or something?" Isabella hissed.

"Yes, actually. I do. I think it would be quite amusing." Daniel grinned as he absently twirled a scotch glass around on his finger.

"You're of the Dark, Daniel. You mustn't betray them."

"Like you did?" Daniel asked lightly.

"I did not betray the Dark. I did what I had to do."

Daniel laughed and nodded. "Falling for the Pendragon. You must be so pleased, Belle. He's got power, money. Or at least he would have power- shame his little kingdom is going to crumble before he'll ever inherit. We've talked to Mordred, by the way. We of course didn't let him know we were the Dark, and I doubt he got the implications; he's a daft oaf, if you ask me. But he'll get the job done. After all, the textbooks haven't changed."

"And what exactly are you hinting at?" she grated. "No, never mind. It isn't important. Why don't you just kill the girl? It would defeat the Light, surely!"

"I don't want to kill Jane. Good God, Belle. Do you know how angry that would make them? Even the Dark, since Jane has the protection of the Light. I can deal with a bunch of the Old Ones and the Pendragon on my back, but there isn't enough room there for the High Magic."

"And she's only bait? You aren't falling for her?"

Daniel laughed heartily. "How could I? She's like all the others. Belle, dear. All I'm doing is waiting for them so I can taunt them a bit. I promise."

Isabella's eyes narrowed. "Am I to believe the promises of the Dark?" she asked.

The door flew open, and Simon and Barney stood in the doorway. They rushed in as Isabella looked around frantically, seeing Daniel had left.

"Where is he?" Simon asked. He advanced on her. "Where's my sister?"

Her mind raced, and she threw her arms around him. "Thank God you came," she said, sniffling. "I was so afraid! He was here, right here! I thought he was one of the boys from the village delivering something. I was in the kitchen- I didn't know whom it was!"

Simon blinked at Barney, startled. Barney shrugged and went to look around the house. He returned a few moments later. "Not here," he said, shaking his head.

Simon tried to comfort Isabella, feeling awkward as she cried into his shoulder.

When Bran and his convoy showed up, Isabella instead flung herself at him. "What happened?" he asked Simon and Barney, who told them what they had seen and heard. Bran nodded and patted Isabella's back gently; she'd mostly stopped crying by now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Catherine rolled her eyes. "I'm going to put Michael to bed. Where can I stash him?"

"Guest room. Where Will was before," Bran said absently.

Catherine nodded and dragged away a complaining Michael.

After she'd left, Bran told Isabella, "Don't be sorry. You didn't know."

"But still-"

"Hush, Izzy. Come on. Get some rest." He led her to the bedroom and tucked her in. When he came back, Catherine had come back, getting drinks for everyone.

"This is surreal," she complained. "Sherry? I can't believe you actually drink that!"

"Why not?" Bran demanded. "It's good!"

"It's disgusting," Catherine snapped back. "Just like that little tearfest your lady pulled back there. Fake all the way. Whatever made you decide to propose, anyway?"

Bran had been about to ask how she knew Sherry was disgusting if she didn't drink (usually), but cleared his throat when he realized he had everyone's attention. "I, um, went to check on how she'd been, after our last little adventure. And she was very different."

"Different, ha," Catherine scoffed. "The only thing different about Isabella is that her rear doesn't have a nose to breathe _in_ through."

Although his jaw tightened, Bran ignored the comment. "She was the designated Seer of the village and surrounding towns. She undertook whatever was asked of her, and whatever money she couldn't refuse she would give away."

"The vast amounts of money she couldn't refuse she gave away to her bank, I'll bet," Catherine said.

Bran glared at her. "What's your problem with her?" he asked, straining to keep his voice casual.

"I think I'll go home now," John Rowlands said quickly. "Do you lads need a place to stay?"

"Yep," Simon and Barney said promptly, getting up to follow.

"I'll stay here," Will said. "I'll sleep on the couch." He looked at Bran and Catherine, who were silently glowering at each other. "Though I think I'll go ahead and get ready for bed now." The four quickly exited.

"Well," Catherine said, "you certainly clear a room."

"You're the one who cleared it," Bran said lightly, standing. He walked to the refrigerator, hoping food would be a nice distraction.

Catherine followed him and pushed him against the refrigerator door. "Listen, Bran," she said angrily. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but for Christ's sake! Do you _know_ what you're doing?" Realizing how close she was to him, she turned quickly and started pouring some water, gulping it down and hoping she wasn't blushing as badly as she thought she was.

"What's so hard to understand?" Bran asked her, turning to get a sandwich from the refrigerator. "I love her."

"Love and reason keep little company together," Catherine intoned.

"Shakespeare," Bran said, nodding. "A Midsummer Night's Dream. You know that play?"

"It was my favorite until I realized you knew it," she said crisply. "Good night." She stormed off to the guest bedroom.

"Good night." On his way to his room, Bran knocked on the door of the bathroom and told Will it was safe to come out.

* * *

Far off, in a place hidden to the rest of the world, the Lady sat calmly. Even as she sat there, staring into the water bowl with a few drops of oil, she seemed to become two.

"They're my friends!" Clara shouted in her mind. Clara was the younger of the two, not truly the Lady yet. She had more sacrifices to make, more wisdom to understand.

"They may be, but you must do what is best to the Light, Clara. That is where our loyalty must always lie."

"I've already died for it," Clara said, glaring.

"You think life is the price of loyalty? Child, death proves nothing."

"Then let _me_ sacrifice. Not them. Just because-"

"Clara," the Lady said softly. "You know what must be done."

"Yes, I know," Clara said. And with that, the woman, sitting alone, felt the Lady become a bit weaker, and Clara become a bit wiser.

* * *

Jane glared at Daniel as he entered. She was so close to done with this measly twine! If he didn't check it, she might be out of here by tomorrow.

Daniel sat across from her, shaking his head. "What is it with you women?" he asked. "You always hate men like me. Don't you want the chance to be saved by a valiant knight?"

Jane couldn't help it. She laughed. "How's that for an answer?" she asked.

"Pretty good," Daniel admitted. He stared into the flames of the candle. "How much do you know about Michael?" he asked at last.

"He's Catherine's foster child. She found him. You know that."

Daniel grinned. "Yeah, I know. He's got a love of power, you know. Slightly greedy."

Jane narrowed her eyes at him, and Daniel reflected on how that had been happening a lot lately. "How would you know?" she asked quietly.

"Runs in the family," Daniel said, getting up. "He's my son. Catherine's too. Remind me to tell you the story sometime. Then again," he said as he looked at his watch, "the story doesn't even begin until tomorrow. You might be here to watch it unfold." He left Jane in shocked silence as he went to his own room, thinking about Michael. Once he got Michael, he'd have Catherine. And once he had Catherine, he'd have the Pendragon, which would give him the Old Ones and Arthur, which would give him the Dark bowing before him. It was almost too easy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_© 2001. Hope you liked it! More to come! And to the person who asked if reviews motivate me, since I'm currently working on three stories and a website and a summer job including numerous email "occupations," yes, they very well do. ;o)_


	5. The Finding

Chapter Five

  


The Finding

When Catherine woke up the next morning, it was only because Michael had refused to stop jumping on the bed. She was unhappy to see that it wasn't even dawn yet, but glad to see Will was also rubbing his eyes and yawning widely.

She glared at Bran, who was whistling cheerfully. "Pod people come and take you away?"

Bran grinned at her amiably, only making her madder. "Perhaps. How would you like your eggs?"

"Will, hit him. I don't have the energy."

John Rowlands walked through the door. "Here," he called. "When are we leaving?"

"Right after breakfast. Want anything?" Bran asked, getting out the orange juice.

"Might as well," John Rowlands said, helping him in the kitchen. They divided the work easily. Will and Catherine looked at each other and shook their heads. Will sat down on the couch, trying to get away with sleeping and closing his eyes. Catherine just sat where she was and rested her head on the table.

"Don't you have any pancakes?" Michael asked.

"Nope. Welsh breakfast. Traditional Welsh breakfast."

"Mom, they don't have pancakes."

"News for you, dear. They don't have electricity either," she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed.

"You don't believe me?" Bran asked, pretending to be hurt.

"No toilets, either." She sighed and sat up. "Can't we just go back to bed? No one else is going to be up for _ages._"

"News for you, dear," Michael mimicked her. "This is Wales. They wake up early. _Really_ early."

"Do I look like I care?" she demanded.

"Sooner we get going, the sooner we can find Jane," Bran reminded her. Will sighed and came back into the kitchen, and Catherine at least hesitated.

"Ought to have asked for pay," she muttered.

"Bran?" Isabella called. Catherine looked at her, changed it to a glare quickly, and mumbled. Sure, Isabella actually had pajamas. It occurred to Catherine that she'd been wearing the same thing for a night and two days. She hoped it wasn't too bad.

"Hmm?"

"Are you leaving?"

"As soon as possible."

Isabella nodded. "Do you need anything?"

"No, thank you. You might as well got back to bed and get some sleep."

Catherine groaned loudly, hiding her face in her hands. John Rowlands patted her back and handed her some breakfast with a grin.

"All right," Isabella said softly. "Good luck."

"Thanks."He looked to John Rowlands. "Simon and Barney?"

John Rowlands shook his head. "They wouldn't wake up for the apocalypse at this point. I couldn't bear to drag them all the way here."

Catherine groaned again. If possible, it was louder than the last.

* * *

"I hope you know what you're doing," Catherine said a bit nervously. "Because if you don't know what you're doing, I'm going to throw a hissy fit the likes of which the universe has never seen and will never see again. No offense, Bran, but I do have limits."

"It's just another old, dilapidated building," Bran said, tapping the wall.

Catherine hugged herself. "That looks like a prison."

"Look on the bright side," Will told her. He gave Bran a small nod and led Catherine and Michael down the hallway. Bran and John Rowlands headed the other way.

Will hadn't gone twenty paces when Catherine whispered, "She's here."

"How do you know?" he whispered back.

"Because Daniel is. I recognize the stench. It smells like fresh dead rat."

Will gave her an odd look and looked around the corner, seeing Eddie and Sammy by the door. He turned back to her. "All right. Stay here." He left before she could even nod.

Behind him, Catherine sighed. No way was she staying out of this. Will could save Jane all he wanted, but Catherine was going to get rid of the root of the problem. She just had to make sure Michael stayed where he was supposed to. Michael. "Michael?" she looked around. She frowned. Her kid had picked one hell of a time to take after her, figuratively. He had disappeared. "Just great," she muttered. Well, he couldn't have gotten passed her; they would have noticed. She started walking down the hallway, checking doors.

At last she heard a voice coming from one. Biting her lip, she slowly pushed the door open. "Michael!" She rushed to him and bounced off something. "Michael?"

"Nope. Try again."

Catherine looked up at Daniel, then to Michael, who was looking at her with a slight degree of amusement. She started mentally kicking herself for her tough talk.

* * *

Will opened the door and hastily pulled back as a fist with a sharp-looking pin almost hit his shoulder. "Jane!" he shouted. "Cut it out!"

"Will? Will!" Jane grinned at him and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry about the pin. You wouldn't believe the week I've had!" She laughed.

"The week _you've_ had? What about everyone else? We've all been looking for you!"

"Well, thank you very much, but you weren't the one tied to a chair in a wedding dress."

"At least it's a nice wedding dress," Will told her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. And you haven't even seen the dress yet."

"Don't have to. Come on, we need to get Catherine and Michael and then meet up with Bran and Rowlands."

"Catherine and Michael? Where are they?" Jane followed him down the hall, stepping over Eddie and Sammy on the floor and holding on tightly to one of his hands. "Daniel was talking about them. He said- What is it?"

Will frowned at the empty hallway. "I told them to stay right here," he said, indicating the empty space with his free hand.

Jane looked at him. "Well, where could they have gone? You don't think Daniel-"

"It's doubtful," Will told her, not truly believing it. "Come on. Let's get Bran and Rowlands. Maybe they found her."

Although Jane looked a bit dubious, she followed, amazed at how quiet everything was. "Is no one here? It's so dusty!"

"Yeah, a bunch of the others we looked at were dusty too."

"How many did you look at?" Jane asked curiously.

"A lot." Will grinned at her and turned a corner.

Jane gasped. "Will! Look out, would you?"

"Nobody's there!"

"So?"

"Will, you'll be the married sort soon. Get used to it. Hey, Jane."

"Hey, Bran. I haven't seen you in-"

"Years," he said, nodding. "John? We found her."

"We?" Will joked. "I saw you lifting a finger!"

"I lifted a whole sword, actually. And I think I busted my back from doing just that." Bran grinned. "Where are Catherine and Michael?"

Will frowned. "I'd been hoping they were with you."

Bran shook his head. "I haven't seen them. Where did you last see them?" After Will gave him directions, Bran nodded and told him, "Take Jane home and come back in case I need help. John, staying?" When John Rowlands nodded, Bran continued. "Good. This way."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_© 2001. More to come. Sorry this one took so long, but school started, and a long vacation, and then FFN was down for a while, but I'm back, and promising there's more to come. Everyone, thanks for the reviews, and thanks for reading!_


	6. The Traitor

Chapter Six

  


The Traitor

This time when Catherine woke up, it was because Jane had come in quietly, but not quietly enough. Catherine sat up with a groan, holding her head tightly. Her head was sore and pounding, her ears were ringing, and everything was altogether making her grumpy.

"I see you're the same as always at least," Jane said with a slight grin. "It's around noon if you're wondering. Lunch for you." She set a tray on the bed. On it was a light sandwich with green lettuce sticking out and a glass of some foul, flat-looking liquid which Catherine was a bit nervous about getting too close to.

"I am quite the same, if it means I'm in a foul disposition," Catherine said, poking the sandwich. "They found you, then?"

Jane grinned and blushed slightly. "Yes, they did. They found you, too," she added, opting to change the subject.

Catherine leaned back, suddenly not feeling well at all. She closed her eyes for a while and then opened one. "Where did they find me?" she asked.

Jane shrugged. "Actually, Bran's the one who found you, from what I understand. He's a bit tight-lipped about the whole thing."

Involuntarily shivering, Catherine crossed her arms and tried to dig herself deeper into the mattress. Jane stroked her arm and then left.

Bran looked up from his book, frowning as always. He was a bit impatient to get back home, and Isabella was cleaning the kitchen for the third time. Will was very usefully throwing a tennis ball against the wall in the hallway. "Well?" he asked Jane. Simon and Barney were watching some old movie; Simon was nodding off again.

She shrugged. "She's awake. Grouchy, and I think her head hurts."

"So she's no different than she usually is?" Isabella asked hopefully from the kitchen.

"You think she'll mind if I talk to her?" Bran ignored Isabella's comment. When Jane didn't say anything, he got up and marked his place in his book, set it on the table, and walked carefully past her. Jane sighed and sat next to Will, catching the ball and tsk-ing at him before throwing it against the wall herself.

Bran knocked quietly on the door. Hearing an angry murmur from inside, he opened the door. "Feeling better?"

Catherine growled at him before becoming contrite. "Bran, I think I need to tell you something-"

He nodded as sat down in the chair next to the bed. "I know."

"So there's no chance we can get Michael back? I mean, is there?"

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Any reason why we shouldn't?"

"Well, he and Daniel-" She shivered again and frowned. "They were quite... amiable with one another when I saw them. I think Michael- Could he have- I mean, if he didn't know anything, could he still have betrayed us?"

Bran was silent, thinking. "I hadn't known that." He sighed. "We'll think about it, ask my father and Merriman; they'll know. In the meantime, if you feel well enough to go home, then I think we'll be going." He stood.

Catherine groaned as she got out of bed. She hesitated, about to say something again, but decided against it. "Well?" she asked Bran. "Going to write a travel book about abandoned creepy buildings now?"

He grinned a bit. "No thanks. I don't have the time for boring, pointless tasks. You might be interested, though. Or Will; he's currently throwing a tennis ball at the wall for no apparent reason."

"It would be nice to, just once, have some sort of reason to write a boring travelling book about the Bahamas, or Jamaica. Some place like that."

Bran nodded as he led her out. "Sadly, no such luck. Wales, though."

"Oh, yeah. A book about big fish. That'll be a bestseller. Hola, todos," she greeted everyone.

Simon woke up and looked around sleepily. "Is the movie over yet?"

Barney looked at him blankly and shook his head. "Can we go see Gumerry now?" he asked.

Bran nodded. "As soon as you guys stop lazing about."

Simon and Barney both immediately jumped up, Jane and Will quickly following suit. Isabella came out of the kitchen. "I left a note for Mr. Rowlands. Are we going home now?"

Bran nodded again and went through the movements. A short while later, they were back in the familiar Great Hall. Catherine grinned and winked at Jane, who was still in her wedding dress. "I must say, you seem like you stepped out of one of those bridal magazines. After you get cleaned up, of course. A bouquet, a veil; you could do quite nicely, actually."

Jane tried to ignore her blush. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

Catherine shook her head. "Sorry. My job. I'm in marketing and graphic design; it's a pain."

"Marketing? Not a telemarketer, I hope," Simon said in horror.

She laughed, paused to answer, and started laughing again. "No, not a telemarketer. Marketing. We advertise for a bunch of products. I design a lot of the stuff we use to get the ideas to customers in new, creative, eye-catching ways," she said, sounding as if she were mocking a boss.

Simon shivered. "Good. I was scared for a second." He chuckled.

"But I know some telemarketers who would be glad to talk to you."

Simon stopped chuckling.

"I see everything's turned out all right," someone said from behind them. Simon, Barney, and Jane all rushed Merriman, nearly knocking him off his feet in a big hug. He laughed and hugged them tightly in return.

"Merriman," Will said softly. When Merriman looked, Will took the Sign of Stone out of his pocket.

Merriman looked at it silently and nodded at last. He turned his attention back to the Drews and grinned at Jane. "I'm glad you're okay," he told her. "Do you want to change out of that dress, though?"

Jane grinned, relieved. "As much as I like this dress, being in it for days on end isn't exactly comfortable." She ran off to change.

"Why don't you follow her?" Merriman said to the ones who were not part of the Light. While Simon and Barney nodded and left; Isabella left with a curtsy in the opposite direction, but Catherine stayed behind.

Bran nudged her in their direction.

Catherine glared at him and moved back into her place. Seeing he still wanted her to go, she stepped on his foot. "Ask him!" she whispered loudly.

Bran tightened his jaw, moving his toes around in his boot. "Catherine thinks Michael may have betrayed us," he told Merriman, "and wants to know if there's any possibility we could get him back."

Merriman looked at her intently. "We'll see what we can do. I'm sorry, but I think you'll have to wear a dress while your here."

Catherine groaned and beamed at him. "Thanks," she said before she rushed off.

Merriman turned away from her and to Bran. "You know how little chance there is that she will ever be together with Michael," he said. "Especially if she is to stay with the Light."

Bran nodded morosely.

* * *

"So you really think Mom's going to come?" Michael asked.

Daniel nodded. "You see, the Light needs certain... artifacts, I guess you'd call them, to beat the Dark. Six Signs, for example. Your friend Will will be trying to find those. They used to need a Grail, but the Prophecies covered that. Now they have to chop the Silver from the Tree, and the Tree... has moved from it's previous location." Daniel grinned. "You see, only I know where the Tree is. I also have one of the signs." He took a chain out from under his shirt and showed Michael the sign dangling from it. Michael, enchanted, reached out a small hand and stroked it.

"Iron," he said softly.

His dad nodded. "As long as I have these, the Light is doomed to fail."

_© 2002. Sorry this took so long, everyone. I'm really, really, really sorry. But, uh, I hope this is all right. I had to go back and re-read everything, and I'm trying to get everything up to par with my former level (since the books are too far up to aim to). ;) Later, I hope!_

Love,  
Dleet


End file.
